Kissing
by letmeupme
Summary: Tweaking update. Fluff. Excerpt from Chapter3; ...the Count couldn't help but be terribly distracted, irritating singing not withstanding...he pounced.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Random plotbunny. OCC.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Petshop of Horrors.

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Kissing

By letmeupme

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_A vision in pink and white, clutching at her new friend,_

'_What kind of pet do _you_have, Mr. Count?'_

**Chuckle.**

The asker had been so adorable, so innocent; Count D could hardly rebuke her for her audacity. To suggest that 'the growly little kitten with a gold mane that T-kun told me about' was his _pet_; that 'the kitty will be _so_ _sad_ to hear that Mr. Count doesn't think of him like that.'

Sigh.

Bray.

_Of course_ Mr. Count didn't think of Detective Orcot as a pet. He was _human_. A human that currently did not warrant his particular brand of medicine. He was disqualified for this pet shop. He was also disqualified for the Count. This human stank, this human smoked, and this human had a general lack of manners such as putting its dirty feet up on ancient upholstery and smacking much-revered god-like creatures of lore. So what, if the Count sometime felt a strange urge to run his hands through that golden- no, urgh, _insanitary_- mane of hair? So what if the Count sometimes wondered what it would be like to couple with another when watching the healthy body stretched out on his chaise? Not that anything productive could come of the act. If he truly wanted to reproduce, all he needed was a Petri dish and some gelatin.

It was not as if the _human_ had anything to do with it.

It was just that- an eternity was such a very long period of time to kill. A little random curiosity couldn't hurt, could it?

Snigger.

_Denial ain't only a river in Egypt, you know._

'…'

Whisper.

Snigger.

The Count couldn't quite contain his blush.

**Outright laughter.**

'Stop it! You- you ungrateful ignorants!'

Silence.

And then…

_Ignorants? Us?_

_Nah, he's just self-projecting._

_Isn't that a little immature?_

**_Uh, well, it must be turribly 'tressful to be a'lusting after a 'uman. Let 'im 'ave 'is comfor's, eh?_**

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Curled up in a corner, Count D wasn't sure if he felt like crying or screaming.

Perhaps a combination of the two would do.

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It was all because of the damned totestu.

And the racoon. And the Persian cats. And the Labrador retrievers, and the iguanas, the tsuchi-no-ko and the alligators and the sphinx and the fits-in-your-hand elephant. All of them, rolling around on the floor laughing, merrymaking at his expense.

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Author's Note: Um, the pouncing part comes in Chapter Three.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: I really like the Baku that appeared in the 'Tokyo' manga.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Petshop of Horrors.

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Kissing

By letmeupme

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'Oi, Count D. What's that damn goat bleating about now?"

The Count could barely disguise his nervousness.

Detective Orcot was looking exceptionally striking today- no, no.

Detective Orcot was looking exceptionally _scruffy _today, and the Count kept feeling an indescribable urge to _groom_ him.

It didn't help that today the Detective had apologetically shown up without his usual largess of sweets. It also didn't help that Chris had been asking about the two of them and their _relational issues_.

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'_Um, Mr. Count? I was just wondering-.'_

'_Yes?'_

'_Brother is bothered by his lack of dates.'_

'_Yes.' And why would the young sibling be calling him about that?_

'_And Mr. Count is bothered by being bothered by Brother whenever a girlfriend leaves him.'_

'…_yes.' Beer stains and cigarette smoke were very troublesome._

_They were almost as troublesome as listening to the Detective moan never endingly about his latest failure to bed a harlot. Oh, was girlfriend supposed to be the word for it?_

'_Mr. Count should become Brother's date, then the both of you would be happy!'_

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'_Uh, sure, Shingo-kun- ?'_

_''cos you see, Mr. Count likesBrother,,real,real,real,good,andI'dbehappytooifyoudatedBrother, becauseyou'reniceandyousmellniceandT-chanandQ-chanandPon-chan,weagreethatyou'rehappierwhen you'retogether,andyoubothget angry reaaaaaaaally easilywhenyou'renot,and-'_

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'Earth to Count D. Now, tell me, you're supposed to be able to communicate with animals. What is that bloody goat bleating on about?'

Snigger.

**Chuckle.**

-_K-I-S-S-I-N-G-,_

Sweatdropping, it was all he could do to steady his hands as they held a teapot.

'I really have no idea.'

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Author's Note: Can you guess which pet is the talented singer?


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: He pounces. He really does. Just don't expect lemons. My birth of place deals better with persimmons and kumquats. Maybe mandarins.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Petshop of Horrors.

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Kissing

By letmeupme

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'Err, you alright? You're looking terribly pale, Count.'

-_D AND ARSECOT SITTING IN A-_

'Is that so?'

_TREE-_

The Count couldn't help but be terribly distracted, irritating singing notwithstanding.

The detective was close now, unbearably close.

He could smell the musk, the unintentional offering made by a clueless human.

_K-I-_

He could feel the heat growing closer from the detective as the concerned male walked over to check his temperature.

_-S-S-_

No, no, this was not a good idea, this was not a good idea-

_-I-N-G-_

But then again, he could hardly say he cared.

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Gleam in his eye, he pounced.

The Detective was simply far too scruffy to be allowed out of the shop as he was.

Far too yumm-_malodorous_, as well.

'Wha-' Wide blue eyes.

'Oh, do shut up.' One irritated twitch of his brow.

Fingers wandered as the detective was pinned down to the sofa lieu of one straddling Count.

'I mean it, wha-' The poor little thing was confused, hmm?

Lick.

-gasp-

'Wh, what are you doing?

'Straightening you out.'

And Count D would have the ruffian cleaned up in _no time_. A little tongue, a little tooth, a little handwork- all in a day's work for a petshop owner, no?

'-I guess that's-' Eyes glazing over, check. Heavy breathing, check.

Bite.

-moan-

'-alright, 'cause I ain't no gay-' Attitude problems, he would have to deal with immediately.

Spank.

-the most adorable little sound that was halfway between a grunt and a sigh-

How lovely.

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_Err, um._

**_Yeah._**

Perhaps too busy 'fidgeting' themselves, neither Count nor Detective took any notice of any fidgeting taking place in the parlor.

_…Ugh, time to get going, guys. **Best o' wishes, Count.** K-I-S-s-i-n…_

Whether the dazed detective managed to 'shut up' as teatime died a swift and painless death and steadily progressed into dinnertime and suppertime, is entirely debateable.

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Author's Note: See, no actual kissing. That's for my next if ever Petshop of Horrors fic. I intend to mangle that, too, embark on a great epic adventure story with my horrible exceptional writing.  
Thank you for reading!


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